Chapter 17: Help came

The omega gently pushed the door open and stepped inside, quickly shutting it behind her.

She lifted her blouse and pulled out a small food pack, holding it out to Lucille. "Take it," she said, her voice low and cautious.

Lucille took the food without hesitation.

"The kitchen won’t send you food. It’s an order. This is mine, but I’m sharing it so you can have some," she explained, her eyes darting around nervously.

"Don’t tell anyone, or I’ll be severely punished," she added with a warning look.

"Thank you," Lucille whispered, trying to hold back her tears.

"I’m Ophelia, from the Downland pack, just like you," she quickly introduced herself.

Lucille smiled faintly, understanding now why her wolf had reacted so strongly when the knock came. Ophelia was from her pack.

"Thank you, Ophelia. If I ever get out of this house, I’ll never forget your kindness," Lucille said, her voice thick with emotion.

Ophelia gave a small nod. "It will pass. You’ll make it out alive." She glanced toward the door.

"I smuggled some toiletries into your bathroom while you were cleaning yesterday. They're behind the bowl."

She pointed to the far end of the room. Lucille looked in that direction, but all she saw was a curtain, not a door.

"Thank you so much, Ophelia," Lucille said, her heart full of gratitude.

"I’ll come by to check on you whenever I can. Stay strong," Ophelia said, pulling Lucille into a quick hug before hurrying out of the room.

Lucille quickly locked the door, sat down, and eagerly dug into the meal. After finishing, she drank the water Ophelia had brought her, feeling a surge of strength flow through her body.

She stood up at once, walking over to the curtain Ophelia had pointed to earlier. She pulled it back, and to her surprise, a door appeared.

"Oh!" she gasped, raising her brows in surprise.

She hadn’t even realized there was a bathroom in the room. Had she really settled in? She opened the door and nodded in satisfaction.

The bathroom was small, just big enough for one person. It had a showerhead, tiled walls and floors, a toilet, and a small sink.

She walked inside, bent down to check behind the toilet, and there it was, a small pack. Gently, she opened it, and just as Ophelia had said, it contained toiletries.

It was time for a quick shower. She hurried back to her room, grabbed her towel from her bag, and returned to the bathroom for the first bath she’d had since arriving at the house.

Once she had freshened up, Lucille lay back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. The silence in the room felt suffocating.

She could hear faint laughter and conversation coming from the surrounding, but it felt so distant, like it was coming from another world, a world she no longer belonged to.

Though the house was full of people, she felt completely alone.

The man she had met in the kitchen the day before had told her they weren’t allowed to speak to her, and the fear in Ophelia’s eyes earlier had confirmed it.

The other staff had been told to isolate her. For five long years, she would walk alone, sit alone, sleep alone, no one to talk to, no one to glance at her, unless Ophelia came again, as she promised.

The sheets were soft, but they scratched at her skin. Warm, yet they felt icy against her body.

Despite the exhaustion from cleaning, sleep refused to come.

Every time she closed her eyes, Edward’s face appeared, his angry words echoing in her mind, his look of disgust and hatred burning in her memory.

She thought about the food she’d eaten earlier. If Ophelia hadn’t brought it to her, she would have starved, her stomach would have turned bad, and she might have become ill, or worse, died.

She rolled over and glanced at the clock. It was 4:32 p.m. Trying to push away the dark thoughts, she shut her eyes, willing herself to sleep.

Perhaps her body heard her silent struggle because it began to give in to sleep. But, just as she was about to be overtaken by sleep, a knock sounded on the door.

"Come in," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

The door creaked open, and the same woman from the day before walked in. Her face was stern, her eyes fierce as they locked onto Lucille.

She sniffed the air, her eyes scanning the room. "Who gave you food?" she asked, her tone laced with malice.

Lucille furrowed her brow. "I haven't received my food since I came yesterday."

"Where's the kitchen?" Lucille questioned further. Her tired eyes on the woman.

“There’s so much work to do. Dinner needs to be prepared, the house needs to be cleaned again, and the walls need to be polished,” the woman listed, her voice sharp and demanding.

Lucille’s eyes widened in shock. “I just finished cleaning!” she almost screamed in disbelief.

“Twice a day! That’s how often it needs to be done, and if I’m right, you’ve only done it once today,” the woman spat angrily.

Lucille felt a lump form in her throat. She swallowed hard as her emotions surged, threatening to overwhelm her.

“I haven’t eaten,” she said softly, barely able to keep the tears at bay.

“No food until you finish,” the woman barked.

Lucille stared at her for a moment before walking to her bed and sitting down.

“I’m sorry, but if I don’t get any food, I’m not working,” she said, her voice steady despite the rising anger inside her.

“You dare disobey your master?” The woman’s voice rose in fury.

Master? Did she mean Edward? Lucille couldn’t help but snort inwardly at the thought.

“Tell that master, that if this servant doesn’t get food, she won’t work,” Lucille's voice was firm as she slowly lay back on the bed and shut her eyes, ignoring the woman.

The woman stood there, her face nearly contorted with rage. “Lowly omega!” she barked.

"Just like you," Lucille muttered under her breath.

She could feel the woman’s wolf, sensing it was an omega wolf, just like hers. Yet the woman seemed determined to exert authority over her.

“What did you say?” the woman roared, her voice filled with fury.

Lucille turned to face her, her tone calm but firm. “You’re a lowly omega, just like me. You’re not an Executive, and you never will be. My wolf will always measure up to yours, whether you’re serving Edward or not. I’m a servant, and so are you,” her words were clear and unyielding.

The woman trembled with rage, her eyes hardening, her jaw tightening, and her fists clenching so tightly her knuckles went white. 

"You!" She pointed at Lucille with an aggressive gesture, but Lucille didn’t even flinch. She didn’t bother to look at her.

"You will regret this!" the woman spat, her voice seething with anger before she stormed out, shutting the door heavily behind her.